Read poetry books for free and without registration


One of the ancients,once said that poetry is "the mirror of the perfect soul." Instead of simply writing down travel notes or, not really thinking about the consequences, expressing your thoughts, memories or on paper, the poetic soul needs to seriously work hard to clothe the perfect content in an even more perfect poetic form.
On our website we can observe huge selection of electronic books for free. The registration in this electronic library isn’t required. Your e-library is always online with you. Reading ebooks on our website will help to be aware of bestsellers , without even leaving home.


What is poetry?


Reading books RomanceThe unity of form and content is what distinguishes poetry from other areas of creativity. However, this is precisely what titanic work implies.
Not every citizen can become a poet. If almost every one of us, at different times, under the influence of certain reasons or trends, was engaged in writing his thoughts, then it is unlikely that the vast majority will be able to admit to themselves that they are a poet.
Genre of poetry touches such strings in the human soul, the existence of which a person either didn’t suspect, or lowered them to the very bottom, intending to give them delight.


There are poets whose work, without exaggeration, belongs to the treasures of human thought and rightly is a world heritage. In our electronic library you will find a wide variety of poetry.
Opening a new collection of poems, the reader thus discovers a new world, a new thought, a new form. Rereading the classics, a person receives a magnificent aesthetic pleasure, which doesn’t disappear with the slamming of the book, but accompanies him for a very long time like a Muse. And it isn’t at all necessary to be a poet in order for the Muse to visit you. It is enough to pick up a volume, inside of which is Poetry. Be with us on our website.

Read books online » Poetry » We Decadent Slaves by James M MacDonald (best motivational novels txt) 📖

Book online «We Decadent Slaves by James M MacDonald (best motivational novels txt) 📖». Author James M MacDonald



1 2 3 4
Go to page:
truth. He loves Suzy so he sings about Sally. She is real but in a false sort of way. It's like baring your soul with a bullet proof vest.

Not to say the fortification isn't necessary of course. This world is full of soul crushers. They pride themselves on there ability to destroy your hope and desire. What more is there now then our last honest war? The war for creativity. A chance to find ourselves is no more then any of us deserve. Stand Children! Build a Fire!! Raise an Army!! This is all yours, life is for youth and I am already aging. I was not brave enough; I should have stood for something. I didn't and I don't but that could change. Perhaps I have one last hur rah left inside me.

There is Music, Poetry and Violence and one last Great War to be had.
The war for me.

The Warrior Poet

I wish to be Naive, to believe in something foolish or hopeful. It would be a sweet dream to be a child of limited experience set loose in a field to explore. That is not me. I am the grim spectre of failure and disappointment. Stone faced and harsh, this is all I have come to represent to those that cross my path. Am I so far removed from my own desire or am I in fact living my desire could it be both.
Astrology has never been anything but a brief distraction in the newspaper to me but perhaps there is some truth there. Astrology calls me Gemini, the twins. Two sides at war with themselves. A near perfect description of me.

The Warrior Poet

I crave outer conflict and inner peace.
I imagine time to contemplate un-accosted, time to perform un-interrupted, time to experiment undeterred, and freedom to strike down any that would challenge these rights.
They don't want us to live this way. There afraid we'll get lost in the experience and never accomplish. To them you must accomplish to have worth. There is no greater accomplishment then experience. It's all wrong what's you've been taught, what I've been taught. I only see it now because I have been good and done what I was told and what has it got me??
Nothing but Regret

Your Life

Perceive yourself in a light of deception
Deceive yourself through careful reflection
Convince yourself your not just a clown
That's starting to let this fate get you down

Sordid affairs just a few to many
On hot nights with poor company
You are judged by the sins of the company you keep
So make sure your ready to accept what they reap.

Have you found it my dear, the purpose of your quest?
Have you figured out that this life is not a test?
No not a drill, no second take, you don't get another try.
So do it first, do it now, do it all before you die.

The clock it ticks but you need not heed it.
Throw it away and don't bother to retrieve it
Death waits for you but you should not wait for him.
There is far too much to do before your lights go dim.

What About Horatio?

What about Horatio? Where did he go?
He was raving now, I knew no one by that name.
Was it the drugs or his age or both?
He felt feverish. Should I summon the nurse?
What can she do? More drugs I suppose.
"Horatio please, I need your assistance"
A plead for help from those proud lips?
The fear in his voice was genuine and unfamiliar.
He was like Iron all my life, now reduced to this?
"Horatio" he cried again. I wondered should I answer.
Claim my name Horatio and try to comfort him.
But who was this Horatio? I knew no one by that name.
I had no desire to upset him more.
"Horatio"! "No Father it's only I your son."
"Son... No it can't be where is Horatio?
What have you done with him?"
This caused the reality to sink in.
Age and the Drugs but something more
The Curse as I called it. The Curse was the cause.
Creating fear, confusion and suspicion.
My own Father did not know me
Instead he cried for a man I've never known.
Tears ran down his face now TEARS!!!!
Silently I cried with him.


ME

A bleeding heart romantic, a sadist murdering king
A man full of endless passion, a soulless empty thing
How could I be all of this?
What does the contradiction mean?
Moreover is there point to seeking reason
In a liar so obscene?
It seems I’m full of treachery
Yet also a bumbling fool
I don’t know my left from right
But refuse to follow any rule
I love but am un-lovable
I hate but am adored
I am ugly from the inside out
Yet I am not abhorred
No one sees my inner duel
Over what I’m not quite sure
Can one side win and take control?
Or will this infernal stalemate endure?
Is it lost amongst the details?
Did I find it in her gaze?
Could such a wounded angel
Sift through this stifling haze?
Perhaps she saw my one true face
But why her and why can’t I?
I suppose it must be awful
As it caused her to run and hide
Bastard, Liar, Piece of Shit
Sweet and honored friend
How could I be all of this?
Where does it start, where will it end?

The Shame

It is not knowing what to say that is the worst of it.
I feel broken in my mind
I am shattered by my stammering
My in ability to find
The words that I search and grope for
The sentence lost in space
A normal flowing conversation
Leaves confusion etched on my face
For centuries I have lived apart
I found my comfort in the dark
Silence was a golden friend
I was at home in all things bleak and stark
I only knew them as simple food
My prey, my sustenance of life
I found no cause left for chatter
Took no interest in their strife
So why now at this time in this place
Should this one entrance me?
What has caused this desire to speak?
She seems different and yet she can’t be
Now my violence has become my greatest shame
Her virtue clouds my view
Though what I do, I do to survive
She makes me wonder if I have to
I feed without hate or malice
I know, no vengeance nor greed
Yet my lie now seems evil
A sin my basic need
All because she touched my cold hand
Then asked me for my name
She did not retract in horror
Like skin against a flame
Something small to most I suppose
It was no more but certainly no less
Now I am lost in contemplation
While I attempt to figure out this mess

Deception

The Dark one stood with fiery sword
Wearing his mask of hate
Staring down at a small terrified girl
In his hands he held her fate
She ran to him and clung so tightly
Her grip caused him to drop his sword
So he could pick her up gently
For the first time he felt adored

She spoke “Warrior I can hear your heart”
“The one they said was made of stone”
You needn’t hide your face behind that mask
I will no longer leave you alone
The Dark one removed his mask of hate
For the first time he stepped into the light of day
He allowed his guard to drop
A mistake for which he will forever pay

She drove a knife into his heart
She did so without a sound
He fell down and she was gone
He was then left suffering with no soul around
He did not know the reason for her action
All he felt was cold and he knew it would remain
As he lay there he wonders which is worse
The betrayal or the pain

Optics

Windows to the soul they say, a many colored tapestry
All we need to know is there. We are all scarred by what we see

Her eyes so blue and haunted, sometimes dead sometimes alive
Look to close and you’ll be lost her pain is real and yet contrived

Her eyes so brown and sadden, made weary by her fight
Full of wisdom come at a price, they still shine when touched by his light

His eyes so full of merriment yet untouched by savage pain
Unprepared for what’s to come, I fear his light will soon drain

Her eyes so sharp and intelligent and yet still full of glee
Determined to embrace this world and better all she sees

His eyes like icy sadness so stern and yet so real
He sees things as they are that must be how he deal

Her eyes seem many colors her moods so varied too
Reaction strong no matter what makes me question what is true

His eyes should tell a story but are most difficult to read
Perhaps because he doesn’t hide the truth be in his deeds

What story do these eyes tell uncertain of their hue
They shift and change to match each mood but always are confused

Sunday Sins
So much anger in my heart, on this a day meant for peace
It was not there when I closed my eyes, so why this morning do I seethe
What prompts this useless agony? This choking, smothering hate
Which serves no enduring purpose to the health of my mental state?
Could everything be as broken as it seems to be?
Is my perception tainted by anger that I can not see
Why is yesterday so maddening? What’s so wrong with thoughtless fun?
Why today is a smile so hard to muster and all my good thoughts undone?
I don’t wish to be so small but in pettiness I am drowning
I try to rise above the tide but I cannot seem to stop floundering
I attempt to take the high road but it is paved with cutting blades
Comprised of childish jealousy, slow progress I have made

A Blacker Shade of Night

I gazed upon a shimmering, mesmerizing sight
In you I see salvation, a purifying light
Why do you try so desperately to hide your magic glow?
What are you afraid of; I wish you would let me know
What is the cause of all your misery? The clouds in soft blue eyes
Can I unlock this mystery? What fate behind it lies?
Am I a fool running blind on errands for a King?
Or am I simple music man without a song to sing
I weep for the parts of me that I have lost; I seek to pick them up
To myself together and drink from golden cup

Every sense is tingling seeking wisdom yet unknown
Broken by a non-response, a simple broken tone
There is life and there is pain, but is there truth to find?
I seek the joy of simple comfort and a quiet peaceful mind
To quash the rage this has consumed and poisoned all of my past
That which has made me so unbearable that nothing I want can last
I am engulfed with destruction, I shatter everything I touch
Is it all for not or is there more, may I at least know that much
Am I so crippled by my character that I am doomed to solitude
Shall I be a victim of my ignorance and solemn ghastly
1 2 3 4
Go to page:

Free ebook «We Decadent Slaves by James M MacDonald (best motivational novels txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment